The 101st Hunger Games
by EnnixiaMaeLin
Summary: Katniss, Peeta, everyone in the rebellion - dead. Their families - slaughtered. The Capital is angry, and for revenge, the Hunger Games are back. ***RE-UPLOADED, CLOSED SYOT*** Rated T for violence, gore, some language, and some disturbing scenarios.
1. District One's Reaping

*****THIS IS A RE-UPLOAD OF A STORY THAT WAS TAKEN DOWN DUE TO INTERACTION. IT WAS ONCE AN SYOT BUT NOW IT WILL JUST INCLUDE THE CHARACTERS FROM THE PREVIOUS STORY, SO NO MORE SPONSOR POINTS/QUESTIONS OR TRIBUTE LISTS. ALL OF THE ORIGINAL AUTHOR'S NOTES AND TEXT WILL STILL BE THERE, SO NONE OF THOSE EVENTS UP TO THE THIRD DAY OF TRAINING (IN-PROGRESS) ARE HAPPENING AT THE MOMENT. THIS IS JUST AN INDICATION AND WILL NOT BE FOUND ON ANY OTHER CHAPTERS. SO PLEASE ENJOY THE STORY :)*********

**Hey everyone! Well, here's District Ones reaping! Thanks to ****Skai Breeze and my Bestie for submitting the tributes, I hope I get them right! Anyway, here you go.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Hunger Games! It would be awesome if I did though!**

**ATRIUM NYLAST'S POV**

"Atrium! Time to get up!"

I groaned and rolled over in my bed. "Just five more minutes…"

I heard a deep, reluctant sigh that could only belong to one person. "Don't make me do this. You know you don't want to make me do this."

Some form of mumbling was my only response to the statement.

"BODY SLAM!" My brown eyes shot open as a large weight, or person I should say, was slammed into my right side. I let out a pained "oof" after the dust settled down. A faint girly giggle wafted through the sleepy air.

"Augh, Finitia…" I groaned as I sat up and rubbed my scalp. "Why do you always do that? You know I hate it when you do that."

A girl with dirty blonde hair swiped her bangs out of her evergreen eyes. "You didn't respond. Besides, the reaping's in five minutes."

That woke me up. I bolted upward and nearly knocked over Finitia ad her little sister Starri as I sprinted out the door. "DANGIT FIN! WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME!"

The kitchen was abandoned when I popped into it. The only thing in it was a file of my dad's old paperwork and a plate of eggs and bacon. Attached to it was a note.

_Dear At-At: We're sorry we didn't have time to wake you up. Our meeting started earlier than we though. This is for you. Love, Mother._

I crumpled the note up in his hand. God, I hated that nickname. At least my mother had the nerve to prepare my eggs with extra pepper. Just how I liked 'em. After shoveling down my breakfast in half a minute, I ran back upstairs, tripping several times, and flung open the maple-wood closet.

_Gotta hurry, gotta hurry, gotta hurry…_ Ran through my mind as I dug around for the suit my father had given me last night for the reaping. He was so proud of me for excelling in my arena training. It's not much to be proud of though. He's just upset because he was never reaped. I finally spotted the black silk insides glimmering in the LED closet light. I took it by the collar and yanked it out. Quickly I stripped out of my PJs and into the dress robes. After straightening my tie, I looked in the mirror.

God, I looked like a mini version of my father. With my black silk suit, bright yellow shirt, stuck-up tie, and brown cowhide shoes my mother ordered from District 10, them being the livestock district and all. I dipped my fingers into the hair gel can on my bedside table and slicked my shaggy chocolate hair down flat. Now I looked like a spoiled rich kid. Just the image my father wants me to present myself as. The only flaw in it was a big rip in the side of the suit coat. No big deal.

I then bee-lined for the door, skipping several steps in the process, and wrangled my front door open. Basking in the warm, spring air that is District 1. Waiting right there, on my grey flagstone pathway, was my girlfriend.

Parasol Velvetta. Twirling her floral umbrella lightly in the gentle breeze.

Her eyes swirled like a freshly brewed mocha in the light of the coffee shop that just beckoned to be drunk. Her hair, flowing down her shoulders in a silky curtain of platinum blonde goodness. A stray strand of blue silk was woven into a small braid that laid ever so gently on her wall of hairy beauty.

God, being around her makes me poetic.

"Hey," Parasol said and skipped up to give me a kiss on the nose. "Why do you look so rushed?"

"'Cause the reaping starts in two minutes!" I answered and tried to pull her forward towards Town Square. Parasol kept her feet firmly on the ground. "Do you want to be late?"

Parasol rolled her eyes. "I apologize for any lies my sisters have told you. The reaping starts in FIFTEEN minutes. So we've got seven minutes to kill before we should leave."

I face-palmed. "What would I do without you baby." I walked up to give her a quick kiss on her rose red lips. She giggled and broke the connection.

"Come on, let's go to our spot."

Our spot was behind the Justice Building. When we were fifteen we would sneak back here to make out. Ah, memories my parents will never know about.

"How 'bout an old round of Q&A. You know, the one we always played after arena training with Gallahoff when we were twelve," Parasol asked and pulled out a paper bag full of kettle corn.

We seated ourselves so that our backs were leaning against the back wall of the sun-baked marble, with the bag of kettle corn between us, popping handfuls into our mouths after each question.

"Alright, if you wanted to propose to me, how would you do it?" Parasol asked and fingered a piece of popcorn, before throwing it up in the air and catching it with her front teeth.

"I'd spell it in your crème brulee," I answered and threw a couple of kernels into my mouth. Crème brulee was normally only eaten in the Capitol, but it's sold here on holidays like Christmas, New Year's Eve, and reaping parties. "Then hide the ring at the bottom."

Parasol giggled. "Your turn Atri."

"Hmm," I though aloud. "If I died, what type of flowers would you put on my grave?"

Parasol gave me a sad look. "You know I don't like to talk about your death…" Her eyes started to twinkle again. "But…definitely the blue lilies you and your mother genetically engineer in your backyard." Parasol reached her hand into the back, but came out empty. "Oh, it looks like we're out. Heh heh…"

I wrapped my arm around her shoulder. "Don't worry, we'll get some more tonight for the party." Para beamed back.

"Oh! Guess what I've also got?" Parasol said and dug around in her black leather shoulder bag. I eyed her bag curiously before she pulled out a tall bottle of expensive red wine. Sealed with a smooshy tan cork and crimson ribbon.

"Parasol! You know we're not old enough to drink this," I said and took the bottle from her hands. She looked at the grass sadly. "But I though we could celebrate tonight with it. I stole it from my father's wine cell and all."

I smiled at her. "Alright. We'll break the rules." I placed my hands on her skinny waist and kissed her plain on the mouth. Parasol ran her manicured hands through my hair and ran her tongue along my bottom lip. It was going swimmingly, until the trumpets blared. Signaling the start of the reaping. We broke apart and looked back at the Square.

"We should go," I said and started to pull her towards the Square.

"Okay!" She bubbled and roughed up my hair with her hand. "You know I hate it when you do that to yourself. I love you _just_ the way you are."

"Sure," I said, my gaze dropping to the fresh spring grass. "But my father doesn't."

**ICHIGO HANA'S POV**

It was a normal, breezy, spring morning. The air was hot and sticky like the summer, but with a cool breeze like the fall. I didn't see how any of the guys my age could wear suits in temperatures like this. Maybe they're like the type that one of the factories makes that keeps the heat out. But they'd be arrested for doing so.

"Ichigo! Time for breakfast!" I heard my mother call out from downstairs.

"I'll be down in a minute!" I shouted back. I was looking for something to go over my reaping dress. I should have never let my mother picked my outfit out today. She has horrible taste.

"Ichigo if you do not get down here you will be late for the reaping! That will be bad for your father's reputation!" She yelled back. She was right, the daughter of the jewelry factory being late would surely embarrass him in front of Mr. & Mrs. Nylast, the town officials.

_Yes!_ My mind screamed as I pulled out a long scarlet coat with gold clasps. I swiftly slipped it on and buttoned it up to my neck. Now I looked more like myself and not a flowery giggly teen.

I swept down the stairs, nearly knocking over my older brother James, who was trying to put his tie on, and ran into the kitchen. Where my mother and brother, who was wearing a blue wizard hat made out of his old dress pants and holding a staff, were seated at our dining table.

"Hey, where's dad?" I asked and took my seat next to Daisuke (my brother).

"He's already at his meeting with the officials," My mother answered and slid a plate of syrup-y waffles over to me.

"I'M A WIZARDDDDDDDDDDDDD!" Daisuke shouted and held his staff up high.

"That's nice. Now stop getting you're shirt all sticky!" I scolded and pushed him back away from his plate, which was overflowing with maple syrup. Daisuke crossed his arms, but promptly unfolded them to take another bite.

"Good morning James," My mom said as he seated himself down at the kitchen counter, where a cup of steaming espresso was waiting for him.

"Morning," He said and took a sip of the black, tasteless liquid. "Ichigo, what are you doing to Daisuke?"

I kept wiping the sticky solution off my brother's lapel. "Cleaning him. His plate's full of syrup and he keeps dipping his collar in it when he eats!"

"The more the merrier. Especially on waffles," He said and kicked his feet up on the back of another chair. My mother promptly scolded him for it.

"Not when they're submerged!" I groaned and quickly finished my breakfast. When everything was done and gone, I ran a quick brush through my short hair and bursted outside. I in-took a large breath of District 1 air before hopping off our porch, not bothering to use the steps, and started to walk down the street towards the Square.

To my right was the Victor's Village. Bustling with several tributes from previous years, along with their children. Sigh, if only I could live the life of a victor, they seem pretty happy. Well, most of them.

Further down the street, I spotted Atrium Nylast, son of the officials, and a giggly, bubbly girl holding a frilly parasol I assume to be his girlfriend. The girl was pulling him down across Town Square and behind the Justice Building. When I was younger, about fourteen, I once spotted them kissing back there. I couldn't remember if they'd spotted me or not. It was a long time ago.

When I reached the Square, I noticed my best friend Bill Volins, leaning up against a shop-keep's window. I assumed the shop sold sweets, since I saw Bill twisting the wrapper of a saltwater taffy back and forth.

"Bill!" I exclaimed and waved my hand. He looked up from his wrapper, smiled, and motioned for me to come over. I ran in big, long steps and leaned over his shoulder. "Whatcha doing?"

He dug in his pocket and pulled out a circular mint green taffy. "For you."

I let out a light squeal and tore off the wrapping in one big _rip!_ With one flick of my wrist, I popped the sweet into my awaiting mouth. My face contorted at the taste of it. "Yuck, mint!"

Bill dug in his pocket again and pulled out an orange one wrapped in yellow. "Try this one. It's my favorite."

I repeated the same action to taste the taffy. This one I reluctantly spit out on the dirt. "Orange. Blargh, I hate citrus fruits!"

Bill shrugged. "Well that's one thing I didn't know about you." He pulled another one out of his pocket. "My last one. I don't really care for these much anymore."

This is the one. I slowly peeled back the dark blue covering to reveal a creamy white candy. I took a large bite. The corners of my mouth tilted skyward in happiness. "Vanilla!"

"I think you found your favorite," He said as people from District one started to file in. "Come on, let's go." I took Bill's wrist and he led me to the sixteen-year-old rope section. In the seventeen-year-old section, I saw Atrium again, except this time his hair was all tousled and his girlfriend was chatting up a couple other girls. The escort for District 1, a tall, lean girl with tan skin, purple eyes, wavy white hair, and diamonds embedded next to each of her eyes, took the podium.

"Welcome to the 101st Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!" She announced and threw her arms up, revealing several bronze tattoos swirling up her forearms. "My name is Drema, and I'll be the escort for this year!" She stepped over to the boy's reaping ball. "Shall we start with the boys this year?"

No response. Drema just dug her French-manicured hand deep into the ball and pulled out a slip with dainty handwriting on it. "Atrium Nylast."

Everyone's eyes darted to Atrium, including mine, as her walked the grey path to the stage. His girlfriend was being held back by her friends, screaming "NO!" as tears ran down her heart shaped face. When he reached the podium, Drema clutched his shoulder and clearly spoke into the microphone, "Any volunteers?"

The whole District went completely silent. Drema just beamed and nudged Atrium in the direction of the Justice Building. I would have thought his girlfriend had burned herself out on crying, but now she was on the floor bawling even harder than before.

"Now for the girls," Drema whispered and plucked a name right off the top. She unfurled it slowly and read out, "Ichigo Hana."

My pupils got as small as ants. I was reaped. For a moment I felt as if I might faint, but Bill gave my shoulder a good shake, one last "goodbye" look, and a push forward. I took very small steps, keeping a gentle pace so that I won't fall over and made my way towards the stage.

Halfway there, I tripped over my own two feet and face-planted into the walkway. A couple of laughs bubbled up from the tense crowd, but other than that, utter silence as I stumbled the rest of the way up. When I reached the podium, Drema held me steady. The only thing I was really thanking her for.

"Are you alright?" She joked. "Don't want our tribute injured before she even goes into the arena!" That earned a couple more laughs.

When I said I was all right, she handed me the slip, ushered me towards the Justice Building, and closed the reaping.

**ATRIUM NYLAST'S POV**

Goodbyes hurt my insides.

They feel like they're being twisted and contorted at weird angles. I'd rather die than do this. One goodbye after another, each one getting more painful with time.

The first person to come was my father. His expression was nothing but pure glee. He didn't even let me talk, he just kept blabbing on about how great it was going to be with a son as a victor. Until I stopped him.

"Just stop!" I shouted. He immediately stopped and glared at me.

"What did you just say to me young man?" He scowled at me. I just crossed my arms.

"I want you to stop treating me like yourself in miniature. I'm not you! I'm not perfect, I hate the Hunger Games, and yes, I did make out with Parasol behind the Justice Building that one time!" That made him gasp, but I kept going. "And IF I come back from this, I only won for Parasol. Now get out off my sight."

My father puffed out his chest and stormed over to the exit. Before he closed the doors, he turned to me and said, "You're going to regret this Atrium Kyle Nylast, even if it's the last thing you ever do!" And with that, he slammed the doors shut.

The next person was my mother, who just bawled the whole time. I had to peel her from me like a sticker from a piece of paper. After she left, a bunch of kids from school came to congratulate me. Several of them included my friends Bryce Williams, his sister Tristan, Clayton Dustworth, Darius Ombag, and Dee Featherson. Then came Parasol, her eyes red from crying.

"Parasol!" I stood up and welcomed her with a hug. "Why are you here? You should be at home celebrating."

She put her fists on my chest and looked up into my eyes. "How can I celebrate when the one person I truly love is on his way to death?" She started to cry again. "I came here to give you something."

Parasol reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a strand of white lace, at most three inches long. She put it in my hand and rolled my fingers around it.

"What's this?" I asked. She motioned for me to smell it. Before it could even reach my nose, I smelled the strong odor of wine. "It's wine. Why did you give me this?"

Parasol pulled down the top of her dress to show that some of the lace on her bra was missing. "To remind you of all the stuff we're gonna do when you get back. We're gonna drink, celebrate, and love." She then gave me a kiss on the lips. "Promise me you'll come back?"

I hugged her. "I promise." With that, she left. I thought it was the end, until Finitia and Starri came in. "I didn't think you guys would come."

"Neither did I," Finitia said and sat down on the black leather couch. "But Starri begged me to come." Starri nodded her head, making her blonde curls bounce around.

"Guys," I said. They all turned their attention to me. "Please take care of Parasol while I'm gone. If I die, I want you to make sure she lives on. Do you hear me?"

They both nodded. "Is that all?" Finitia asked. I nodded my head solemnly. Finitia stood up and took Starri's hand. Halfway across the room, Starri stopped and turned back to face me.

"Atrium, when you get back, do you wanna come over and play?" She asked in her cute little five-year-old voice.

The corners of my lips turned up. "Sure Starri. I won't forget."

**ICHIGO HANA'S POV**

Goodbyes aren't much to me. I'm pretty confident in myself that I'll be coming back. All the people that came were my mother and father, both proud but terrified, James, his confidence in me shining like a million stars, Daisuke, who was now a superhero, gave me his lucky "magical pocket watch" that can apparently reverse time, and a couple other people from school like Desiree Nickels and Payton Booth.

"Hey Ichigo," I heard the familiar voice of Bill over the sound of paper in an air conditioner. I threw my name strip down the floor vent and now it's on the ceiling. Annoying the crap out of me.

"Hi Bill," I said as he sat down on the blue snakeskin couch next to me. "Why are you here? Your family's probably waiting for you at home. I know how much they like to party." It's true; I did meet Bill at one of his parent's famous parties. I'd never forget that day.

"I told them I was coming. Couldn't just let you leave without a goodbye, now could I? You'd never forgive me," He said and smiled a goofy toothy grin.

"Actually I would," I said quickly, enjoying his surprised look. "Joking!" That earned a couple limited chuckles from Bill and me. "Don't worry, I have a strong feeling that I'll be back for the start of next school year."

"You better, or I'll start calling you "Itchy" again," He said and stood up.

"Wait!" I said and bolted to my feet. Bill stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face me as I appeared next to him. I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before letting my cheeks flush with embarrassment and confusion. For a moment, everything was quiet, as green eyes met blue, until awkwardness started to consume the air.

"Uh-umm…" Me and Bill both stuttered. He eventually broke my ways of tripping over my words with his own.

"Um, goodbye," He said. I nodded as he started to exit. "Goodbye Bill."

"So can I leave?" I called out to the escort assistants.

"Not quite yet," A man with a deep sturdy voice answered. "You still have one visitor left."

_But…who?_ Right then the marble doors slowly slid open to reveal Atrium's girlfriend. "Uhm, who are you?" I asked as she made her way over to one of the couches.

"My name is Parasol Velvetta," She answered, her voice as monotone and lifeless as concrete.

"Nice to meet you Parasol, I'm–" She cut me off swiftly. Like she was the Fates and I was the life thread they just cut.

"Listen Ichigo," She said her eyes welling with salty tears that threatened to fall over in a saddened waterfall. "Please take care of Atri. Make sure he comes home. And if he dies, make his death _count_."

I sat in shock, speechless, as she got up and started to stride towards the exit. "I will."

Right before she closed the thick doors, Parasol turned her hurt filled amber eyes to me, several tears spilling over her perfectly curled eyelashes, and said, "You better." Then she closed the doors with a big slam.

I turned Daisuke's pocket watch over and over in my hand, not even minding the sticky maple syrup still lingering on its stainless surface.

**So there you go! I'm sorry it took so long to get this chapter posted. Once again, I hope I got them spot on, or near spot on! If not I'm happy to corrections through PM. Not reviews, 'cause then it'll embarrass me in front of all my loyal readers. Don't forget to triple R! R, R, & R! Read, Rate, Review!**

**Oh! I also got 3 male gerbils yesterday. Their names are Pepper, Blackie (so original, I know), and Cappuccino (his nickname is Cappy)! I love them with all my heart!**

**Until then, keep on roasting.**

**~EnnixiaMaeLin**


	2. District Two's Reaping

**I'm back with District 2's reapings! Shout out to TheHungerGamesbeast and HungerGamesAddict for submitting Blade and Nitron. I hope I get them correctly! Anyway, here you go. Oh, and thank you all for the reviews! I lurv you!**

**NITRON JAROVENES'S POV**

I was up at the crack of dawn today.

Reaping day. Can never sleep. And even if I do, it's not for long. Either because of the anticipation or the fact that I'm going to be forced to volunteer today. Sigh, better get up now. I can practically feel myself being soothed out of bed by the thick, sleepy air in my bedroom.

Yawning, I stretched and slipped out of my bed before thumping down the hallway. Unlike the more richer folks in District 1 with their two floored houses, only the northern District 2 gets them, we have a bunch of wimpy one-floors. It gives my mother migraines for some wacked out reason.

"Good morning Nitryyyyyy!" I hear my mother call out and ambush me with a hug. I groan loudly as she plants a wet kiss on my forehead. "What would you like for breakfast? I made your favorite! Hotcakes with butter! Yum!"

"Mom, please stop," I said and took the plate from her. "You're embarrassing me!"

"Go sit with your sister I'll bring your milk out in a little," She said and continued to usher me around. When can she accept the fact that I'm _fifteen_ now? She just keeps living in the past.

"Good morning Ava," I said and sat across from my four-year-old sister. She just sloshed her butter pat around on her pancake. "Did you remember to clean up your room?"

"No," She said and started to play with her empty cup. "I want you to do it."

I rolled my sky blue eyes and took a large bite of pancake. "You need to learn to do stuff yourself."

Ava shook her head. "No. Can you get me more orange jwooce big brother?"

"Why don't you ask mommy?" I said and turned to face the kitchen. But Ava just puffed out her cheeks.

"I don't wanna! She always gives me the pulp one! Pulp is icky!" She exclaimed and stabbed her pancake with her plastic fork.

"That's because the pulp is _good_ for you," I scowled and put my empty plate in the kitchen. Ava crossed her arms as I gave her cup to mother. "She wants no pulp," I whispered to her. Mother nodded and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

"Don't forget to drink your milk!" She called out as I sat down in the kitchen. "It'll make you big and strong when you're all grown up!"

_I am already grown up woman!_ I though and clenched my fists together.

"Morning Jarovenes!" My father called out as he emerged into the living space. As soon as I saw him in my peripheral vision I stood up and walked away.

"Son!" He called out after me. "Have you remembered to practice your spear throwing skills?" I slammed the door to my room in half a second and face planted into my bed.

I have an arena obsessed father, a mother that treats me like I'm five, and an over demanding sister. Isn't my family just the best?

I let out a sigh and walked over to my closet to get dressed. I quickly put on fresh underclothes, a simple white dress shirt, black dress pants, and red leather shoes. I don't need to impress The Capitol now, I will in the arena a week from now. I managed to slip out of my house without being noticed and get as far away from it as possible. I want to spend the last hour I might ever have alive at home around things I like. Which is defiantly not anywhere near my family.

"Hey Nitron!" I hear someone call out behind me. I turn around to see the familiar face of Bren Trenton running towards me. "Bro!"

"Hi Bren–" He cut me off by tackling me to the ground. "The fu–"

"It's good to see you!" He said and helped me up. "So, are you gonna volunteer this year?" That broke my spirits. Having one of my best friends ask me about the one thing in my life I know I'm gonna regret – besides being born into this horrible family.

"Yeah, dad's forcing me too," I answered, feelings crushed under the cold boot of depression. "I don't wanna talk about it."

Bren held up his hands in defense. "Whoa, I didn't know you were that sensitive about it." He then let a goofy grin work it's way back onto his face as we walked. "But I'm proud of ya!" He slapped me on the back. "That's something very brave you're doing. The girls 'ill admire that about ya." Bren smirked as he said that last sentence, since a couple girls were sitting on the steps of the Justice Building.

Unlike Bren, I've never had my eyes on any girls. There was one though, Anemone Trillium. She was named after the flower (not the sea animal, flower.) because of her dashing red hair. I notice her everywhere I go, even though we're not friends. I doubt she even knows my name. Sometimes, I wish she and I were reaped, so that I could finally meet her.

"Dude! Snap out of it! Anemone's coming over here!" Bren nudged me out of my memory-induced trance. I shook myself awake, sloshing bits of shaggy blonde hair in my face, and made out the beautiful image of Anemone walking by us.

"Hi Bren," She said, waving. "Hi Nitron."

I almost melted. Anemone knew my name. I could die a happy man now.

**BLADE GRETA'S POV**

"Blade! The reapings start in five minutes! You don't want to be late AGAIN!"

"I'm coming!" I called back down to my older brother Rod. God, sometimes he can be so annoying. Once more, I turned back to look in the full-body length mirror. I looked absolutely stunning.

The dress I was wearing was made out of a soft, satiny material in chiffon purple. It was a beautiful empire-pleated bust, bow-bedecked dress that reached my mid-thigh. It was completely perfect and proudly showed off my long legs. I braided my long brunette hair down my back with silver ribbon and strode down into the living room.

Sitting in the small den were my two siblings: Rod and Shard. This year was Shard's first reaping, so I'm crossing my fingers that she doesn't get picked. It would break my heart even more inside than it already is.

Twice in my life I've had my heart shattered. When I was younger, no older than six, my mother was murdered. Both of the men who did this to her are dead, but I will never get over losing my mother. Rod and me had to raise Shard on our own, since she was only a baby just learning to walk at the time. Years after her murder, when I was fourteen, I was raped on my way home from arena training. Now, I kill people that hurt me, since I don't want to go through all that again.

"Blade?" I heard Shard call out. I opened my eyes to find her looking up at me. She had my eyes. My lovely, big, sterling grey eyes. Oh, how I love her.

"I'm okay Shard," I answered, taking her hand. "Let's go."

When we got to the Square, people were already starting to file in. My first instinct was to find my best friend Clove. Many people think she was named after a previous victor, but some, including me, just think her mother had the same taste in names as other Clove's mom. It didn't take long before I spotted her little blonde head bobbing around in the sixteen-year-old square. I directed Shard to the twelve-year-old square before bolting over to Clove.

"Clove!" I yelled and tackled her into a bear hug. Clove giggled and faced me with her sea blue eyes.

"Hi Blade," She said and waved to Shard through the crowd. "Why are you so excited?"

I stopped dead in my tracks. Why was I so hyper all of a sudden? "I really don't know." Maybe it's because of Sharp. Sharp Durian has been my best friend since preschool. We spend all the extra time we have with each other; laughing, goofing off, and other stuff teens in District 2 do. I can't help it, but I feel this strange affection for Sharp – different than the friendly affection I have for Clove. I guess seeing him win his way to victory if he's reaped makes me happy.

"You know, you really look like you're from 12," Clove said and looked me over. I slapped her arm.

"Hey shut up!" That earned some laughs out of us.

Right then, a tall; thin man with poofy powder blue hair, chocolate eyes, and porcelain white skin came up onto the stage.

"Welcome to the 101st Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!" He loudly cheered. The crowd clapped loudly in response. "My name is Trivial, and I'll be this year's District 2 escort! Let's start with the boys this time." He pursed his lips and swam around for a slip. When he found one, Trivial read it loud and clear.

"Dunn Trillium."

"I VOLUNTEER!" I heard someone call out. I know who it is when I see the familiar face of Nitron Jarovenes rush up to the stage. When he gets there, he's panting, but can still speak his name. "Nitron Jarovenes."

"Oh! Looks like someone's a little excited!" Trivial spoke into the microphone as Nitron was ushered out. I don't really know Nitron, I see him at school though, and he's pretty excelled in his knowledge of weapon making.

"Now for the girls…" Trivial dug around in the girls' glass ball until his pearly hand closed around a tiny strip. "Anemone Trillium."

Was this rigged? Almost no one's names got picked from the same family. I was about to let her go walk towards her death when I realized something. If I really wanted to put on a good show for these people, I would go myself.

"I volunteer," I swiftly said and stepped out from the velvet rope, pushing Anemone behind me. When I got up on stage, Trivial asked me what my name was, and I quickly responded, "Blade Greta."

He gives me the slip with my name on it and nudges me towards the door to the Justice Buildings for goodbyes. I took one last look at my home before closing the thick gilded doors to the building.

**NITRON JEROVENES'S POV**

The hour of farewells went by so fast. Normally, time goes by so slowly in my home, so it was a little strange.

Only four people came to see me. The first was my father. I just put up with his rants for this one last time, because after this, I'll either be dead or a victor. But then he'd rant on about my amazing new life to his buddies. It sends shivers down my spine. After my father came my mother and Ava. My mother said she was so proud of me, and wished me good luck. Whilst Ava gave me a big hug and asked him, "Who will give me no pulp orange jwooce?" I actually smiled and told my mother not to give her pulp until I get back. The last person to come was Bren.

"Dude, when I said that you totally should have volunteered, I was joking," He said. My eyes widened to the size of cantaloupes.

"WHAT?" I shouted and stood up. "Now you tell me, when I'm already on the walkway to death? I trusted you!"

Bren's face lost its normal happy sheen. "Well, I'm sorry. I thought you knew. But since your going in anyway, I want to give you my goodbye." He held out his hand.

"Goodbye mate," I said, giving his hand a firm shake. "Take care of Anemone and Ava while I'm gone."

"Will do," He said and left. I tugged on the gold thread bracelet my mother gave me when she came in as I waited for my last visitor. I'm making it my District token. Suddenly I heard the door open and I saw Anemone's big green eyes peer over the edge.

"Uhm, hi Anemone," I said as she made her way over. "Why are you here? You don't know me." As sad as I was making my voice sound, I was glad she came to wish me goodbye. It made me feel like I was made out of gold.

Anemone did not speak though. Instead, she rushed over to me, gave me a quick peck on the cheek, and stood back. "Uhm…" She stuttered. "Thank you for saving my little brother."

"Your welcome…" I trailed off as she started to back away. When she reached the door, she turned back to me, smiled, and said,

"Goodbye Nitron. See you when you come back." I waved a small wave before melting back onto the couch.

"See you too Anemone…"

**BLADE GRETA'S POV**

Goodbyes, goodbyes, go away. Come again another day. Let the 'hellos' bloom again, and lead me from this bloody end.

I suck at poetry.

Like most folks, I hate goodbyes. I said goodbye to my mother, when she died, my father when he joined the military, my childhood when I was 14… I sighed and rapped my fingers on my thigh. If I was going to go see the wonderful Capitol, let's get rolling and not waste anymore time here. My parents had already come by, proud, but also teary since they're letting their child leave. Any parents act that way, at least inside. After them Rod and Shard came in. Rod was silent and gave me a hug, while Shard was tearing up and crying. I had to comfort her with all the strength and love I could muster. Last, Clove came in with a couple of my other friends. Clove was bawling the whole time, but then I promised her I would come back, and the tears dried immediately.

"One last visitor…" I mumbled to myself as the doors opened. I didn't even bother to look at who it was until they sat down next to me.

"Hey Blade," Sharp said.

"Sharp!" I yelled and threw my arms around his neck. A couple tears slid from my ducts and stained his blazer. It took him a long time to pry my off. I guess I never really though about the bad side of this until now.

"Shhh…Blade," He soothed and brushed down my hair with the inside of his hands. His warm, warm hands. "Its okay."

When I finally pulled apart, we stared at each other intensely. I didn't even know what was happening until after our lips touched.

I never though I was ever going to kiss Sharp. But now I'm realizing that strange feeling I had was love. Strong, sexy, vicious Blade Greta has fallen in love with her best friend. How cliché.

"I love you Blade Greta," Sharp said as we took an air break.

"I love you too Sharp Durian," I replied and kissed him again. We locked lips for another five minutes before he had to go.

"Goodbye Blade," He said, the sorrow in his voice as noticeable as a light bulb in pitch-black nothingness. "I love you."

"Love you too," I said and waved to him. I kept the smile on my face until after the door closed, and then I burst into tears.

_Why?_ I asked myself and buried my face in my hands. _Why did he have to go and do this? When I'll never see him again?_ I sniffled and lifted my head from my grasp.

_NO._ I thought and clenched my fists. _NO! _I have to stop loving Sharp right now! I stared into empty space and let my tears fall freely onto my dress. I cannot let Sharp win my heart right now.

I'm not going to let them break my heart again.

**KA-BOOSH! There it is! Cliffhanger DUN DUN DUNNNNNNNN! Hahaha yeah. I'm sooooooooo sorry this chappie wasn't as long and detailed as the previous one. I had been thinking about that chappie for a very long time. But I still hope it's of great quality to y'all. If I didn't catch your characters quite right, PM me the corrections for next time.**

**If any of you are wondering, yes. I was in the range of that earthquake today. In fact I was within, like, 100 miles of it, so it was extremely freaky to me. At first the windows were just rattling a little bit, so I was just like, "Oh, it's just the wind." But no. When I walked out to get a drink the whole house sounded like it was going to collapse on me. I looked out the window to see if it was wind, but everything was still. My sister came out screaming EARTHQUAKE! And we just stood there, not knowing what to do. Then when it stopped she screamed aftershock and threw herself on the floor. It scared the living crap out of me, since I've only been through one other 'quake, and it was a wimpy little baby one. When I found out the magnitude was a 5.9 I was like HOLY SHITAKE MUSHROOMS! But we cool. They're predicting some aftershocks between now and tomorrow morning, so I've got some rumblies in the forecast. ;)**

**Enough of my personal life, remember to R&R&R! _AND _send in tributes!**

**Until then, keep on roasting.**

**~EnnixiaMaeLin**


	3. District Three's Reaping

**Hey, hey, hey! I'm back with this years District 3 reapings! Shout out to RhiannaNekozawa and broadwayfreak123 for Tallie and Sparky. Virtual cookies for you! Special cookies, not crappy oatmeal raisin ones. Blech, raisins belong in little boxes, not in things as awesome as cookies.**

**DISCLAIMER: I dO nOt OwN tHe HuNgEr GaMeS!**

**SPARKY FORKS'S POV**

8:00 AM, gotta get out of bed, open my window, and inhale the lung choking air filled with smoke that is my wonderful home. Sometimes I think that that's the worst part of District 3. My mother sometimes tells me that hundreds of years ago pollution like this caused the polar ice caps to nearly melt. She said it was called "Global Warming". If something like that happens because of our District, then it looks like we're in for some melt-y trouble. Not to mention the Capitol will sue us, or blow us off the face of the planet. Whichever's cheaper.

I quickly shut the window to avoid getting the smog into my just-cleaned-yesterday room and run into the bathroom. Brushing my teeth is the only way to get the smoky aftertaste off my breath. Plus the taste of mint soothes my frazzled nerves; I can't go to sleep without it. That's why I always keep a stock of mint-flavored toothpaste and my mint plant in the corner of my room. Can't have it die on me now, now can I?

After brushing my teeth for about two minutes straight, I rinsed and put a small mint leaf on my tongue before opening the door and walking down the hallway to the small homey kitchen. Standing at the counter was my wonderful mother and sister Merilla, obviously cooking breakfast. Merilla turned around to get the saltshaker and laid her eyes on me. Her big eyes widened even more than they were and she ran up to give me a hug.

"Sparky!" She called out and squeezed my chest, nearly knocking the breath out of me. She's either been working out or that pink dress of hers is adding ten pounds to her weight.

"Hi…Merilla…" I wheezed and hugged her back. "You've gotten…very…strong… would you…mind…letting go?" Merilla immediately let go.

"Oh, I'm sorry," She said and laughed. I ruffled her hair and turned to my mother, who was just now noticing that I had arrived. She scanned me over, but let her blue eyes rest on my left palm.

"Sparky Ignis Forks!" She scolded. "I will not allow you to eat until you have gone upstairs and put a bandage on that burn!" I looked down at the black scalded flesh on my left hand. Yesterday, my buddies and me were setting of small firecrackers in the back lot of the electrical factory. When I was setting off the last one, it backfired and sent a tongue of sizzling flame across my palm. It looks like someone took a hot coal and pressed into my hand. "I will _not_ have you go out there today looking like…THAT! Shoo, shoo," She said and hurried me down the hall. "And get dressed while you're at it, too! Remember, noting ashy!"

I rolled my hazel eyes and threw open my closet, pulling out the first two things I laid my eyes on: a bright red t-shirt and long blue jeans. Nothing special, nothing extraordinary, nothing colorful, just me. I slipped them on in a flash and replaced the mint leaf on my tongue before digging around in our bathroom pantry for gauze. As soon as my hands felt the thick, white, squishy roll of it, I tore off a foot long strip, wrapped it around the inward part of my hand plus the palm, and glued it shut with my sister's craft glue. It should hold until I get back this afternoon.

When all was said and done, I shut off the lights and walked back into the kitchen to find a plate with me written all over it sitting on the table. It included two slices of toast, a stick of string cheese, a fat Cortland apple, and a small cup of milk. Normally, we don't get milk here because we're so far away from District 10, but I guess today's a special occasion, with the reaping and all. I downed it in about ten minutes, giving me enough time to brush my teeth one last time, comb my shaggy dirty blonde locks, and meet my friends outside the Square for some last minute fun. Before I left, though, my dad came down from his room to find me in just my t-shirt and jeans.

"Son," He said, looking me up and down. "You're just going to wear that?" I nodded solemnly. He sighed and dug around in our coat closet for something. "Here," he said, pulling out and handing me a jacket. "Put this on before you leave."

It was long and baggy, with fake gold buttons and a waist tie. It was an ugly greenish-gray color and looked too big for me, but I'll wear it anyway. "Thanks Dad," I say and put the coat on as I walk out the door. I probably would take it off before the reaping anyway. Spring this time of year is hot, and the smog doesn't help at all. It didn't take long before I reached the Square. My four friends were grouped around something near the butcher.

"Hey guys," I said and walked over, hands in my pockets. "What are you doing?" They all looked back at me while stowing something behind their backs and grinning, teeth showing proudly. I have the most amazing, friendly, loyal, don't-mind-my-pyromaniacness friends I could ever wish for.

Rollo, with his laid-back attitude that always gets him detention in school. Graham, with his tense, over-cautious sense of living that gets us both in and out of trouble. Decca, with her constant ways of wearing boy's clothes to every occasion, even school, and her brilliant, boyish laugh. And Chrissy, with her rectangular, rimless glasses she always has perched on the tip of her tiny nose to shield her beautiful blue eyes.

"Whatcha hiding behind you're backs?" I asked and tilted my head to the side. They all looked at each other uneasily before pulling out something.

"Surprise!" Chrissy exclaimed and held out what appeared to be a lighter. It was made out of gold with a black base. But there was something special about it. When I tilted it, crimson flames flickered back and forth while glittering lightning sparks flashed behind it.

"Whoa!" I said, turning all around. "How did you do this?"

Rollo leaned forward, proud smile on his face, and answered my question with ease. "Well, _I_ came up with the idea, Graham got the lighter, Decca created the design, and Chrissy engineered the whole thing."

"And the best part is…" Graham slowly lifted back the top and flipped the switch, making fire bubble out of the top. But it wasn't any old fire. This one changed colors – from black to white, to white to red, to red to yellow and back around. It was strangely impressive for the works of my friends.

"Oh my gosh this is amazing!" I exclaimed, feeling the lighter in my grip. "Why did you make this for me?"

Decca rolled her eyes. "Well, 'cause it's your birthday next week silly! Duh!" I sat in silence for a moment. I had forgotten that my birthday was next week. How forgetful I was today. Another reason not to get reaped, because if I did, I would be celebrating my fifteenth birthday in the arena.

**TALLIE DUNLOP'S POV**

"Good morning mother," I said as my mom came down the stairs, fully decked out in pearls and special fabrics sent directly to my rich family from 8. When my mother first got them, she complained that the pollution would fade the vibrant colors, but I said it was a bunch of baloney. My mother's such an over-thinker, it's possibly because she was an orphan living in harsh conditions when she was little, but it's okay. I don't mind it that much; it just gets quite annoying sometimes. "Breakfast's in the fridge."

"No thanks dear, I'll pass," She said and fixed her cropped hair in the hall mirror. My expression drooped.

"But I made your favorite," I somewhat whined. My mother has loved sunny-side up bagels since she and my father got married. Sunny-side up bagels are a toasted bagel with a sunny-side up egg on top. I never have cared for eggs; I'm more of a noeggitarian than anything else. I even have to create my own word to describe me. How special am I.

"I'll eat it when I come back," She said and smiled. "See you at the reaping in ten minutes."

"'Kay. Bye mom." I gave a little wave and finished eating my cinnamon bran muffin. Yum. When I was done I ran upstairs to get the hairbrush – my hair was an utter rat's nest. And a nightmare to comb out as well. It's quite beautiful when it's finished, though. Long, ebony ringlets framing my bright chartreuse green eyes against my tan Latino skin. Beautiful, much more popping though than my best friend Babette's hair though. Her hair is pretty, but it's always lying flat on her shoulders or in a low-lying bun.

Babette Tilden has been my best friend since childhood. She's fourteen like me and lives with her mother and father in a small neighborhood down the street. Babette's that one quiet girl no one really bothers to talk to, but when you know her, she's extremely honest and loyal and sweet. I haven't seen her all week; she must be busy with her father's work.

Once I managed to mangle my hair into cooperating, I flattened my grey cotton cap-sleeved sundress in the mirror and walked out. It was an old dress my mother ordered for me two years ago. Back then, it was too small, but now it fits perfectly. It's quite beautiful, with an empire waistband, a row of buttons between my chest, and tiny vertical ruffles next to the buttons. It feels like I'm wearing cloud when it's on, especially in the wind. Although wearing cloud would be like being drenched in a pool when you're wearing a thin piece of tissue paper in the middle of winter.

But still.

When I looked at the clock, I realized it had taken me a whole eight minutes to brush my hair out. I was going to be late for the reaping! I bolted out my front door, not even locking it, and ran to the Square. Luckily, my parents purchased a house around the corner from it. When I reached there, I saw that everyone was already there. Crap. I squeezed my way through the crowd and hopped into the fourteen-year-old section with still no sign of Babette. Is she sick or something? Even then, no one's allowed to miss the reaping, despite his or her condition.

Out of nowhere, a girl with long black hair, pitch-brown (like pitch black but with brown) eyes, fake eyelashes with little glittering hearts speckled in them, and pale pink skin. Not to mention the onyx tattoos of crescent moons on her cheekbones. It was if she had materialized out of darkness, the night personified, but dipped in pink icing. The pink skin made me gag slightly.

"Welcome to the 101st Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!" She announced and threw her arms up in the air, making her black, velvety sleeves fall down to her bony elbows. "My name is Myrkur, and I'm the escort for District 3 this year." She smiled a smiled dotted with gold, as if her teeth had flecks of gold in them, which they probably did, her being from the Capitol and all. "Let's start with the males this year instead."

Myrkur dug her hand around in the giant glass ball and pulled out a small, square-ish strip with curly handwriting on it. She tugged it open and read aloud in a semi-deep voice. "Sparky Forks."

I remember Sparky from the bakery last month. We met when my mother was buying croissants for breakfast the next morning. Me and him discussed baguettes until I had to leave. He seems like a nice guy, it's too bad he got reaped.

When he reached the podium, Myrkur dug her super-long ebony fingernails into his shoulders and asked for volunteers. When no one replied, it reminded me of something.

This year, I was going to volunteer.

Yes, I know. Most people from District 3 don't volunteer just to get in the games. Well, I'm going to stand out. I've been training like a Career to show that good tributes _can_ come from my District. I want to befriend the Careers and become one. Then all my hard work and training will finally be worth something. I'm so caught up in my thoughts that I almost miss the girl's reaping.

"Luanda McWelsh," I heard Myrkur say. A tall, bulky girl about the age of sixteen with a terrified face made her way up to the podium. Before the escort could even finish her sentence, I proudly shouted out,

"I volunteer!"

Luanda's face flushed with relief and reluctantly hurried back down to her family as I walked the long cobblestone pathway to the stage. My parents' faces are probably horrified, but I still proudly told Myrkur my name and strode toward the Justice Building with out even needing to be told.

**SPARKY FORKS'S POV**

"Goodbye Mom, Dad, Merilla," I called out to my family as they left. It was hard to keep a straight face when Merilla came in. She kept crying and pleading me to come back. I couldn't help but tell her I would, even though I doubt I will, since competition is probably going to be fierce this year. It always is after a Quarter Quell. Every single year.

Bursting in the door only a few seconds after my parents' departure was my trusty group of friends. They all had mixed expressions: excited, scared, sorrowful, anxious, and exhausted all in one. Probably from running the whole way here. They all threw themselves onto the roughed up cotton couches and stared longingly into my face. It kind of creeped me out.

"Why are you all here?" I asked them, folding my hands over my lap. They all dug around in their pockets and pulled out something, but kept it clasped and hidden under their grasp.

"We all brought you something," Decca said and glanced at her friends. They all nodded at one another. Graham went first.

"Tada! I brought you a bottle of District 3 smog," Graham proudly said, pulling out a bottle of thick, swirling black smoke in a tiny bottle, no bigger than two inches, sealed with a baby cork. "Every time you're feeling homesick, just open the bottle up in your room and poof – instant home smell!" He laughed and handed the bottle over. "DON'T. SPILL. IT."

I lifted my arms up in defense. "I won't, I won't."

"I brought you your lighter," Rollo said and handed me the lighter they all made for me earlier. I took it and looked up at Rollo in shock. When did I lose this? "You dropped it on your way up to the stage. Don't want you to forget your District token!" Rollo grinned and kicked his feet up on the coffee table.

"Thanks Rollo, this will look great on my Capitol room mantle," I joked in a fake Capitol accent. That coaxed a few laughs out of them.

"I brought you a small bag of mint leaves," Chrissy said and held up a small sandwich bag full of mint leaves from the plants in my room. I wondered how she got them. "Use these instead of the Capitol mints. People say that Capitol mints are good, but nothing's as good as the real thing."

I promptly took the bag and put another on my tongue. "How could I ever repay you Chrissy?" Chrissy laughed and pushed her glasses back up on her nose. I looked over at Decca. "What about you Decca?"

Decca shrugged. "Hey I just brought the bag to carry this all in." She then pulled out a small purple velvet drawstring bag and dropped everyone's gifts into it. Then she pulled two pieces of durable fold thread together and tied them into a bow. "There," She said and handed it over to me. "Now you have a 'Home' bag. We know how homesick you can get."

I put the bag in my coat pocket, still fingering the rich, fabric-y surface. "Thanks. You guys are the best."

**TALLIE DUNLOP'S POV**

I got so much praise and scowl this morning. Happy comments for doing something so brave, but scold and frown for putting my life on the line just to be with the Careers. I took it all in without even saying a word. Not even to my parents, except a goodbye. I couldn't just _leave_ without a proper farewell. It's unethical.

"TALLIEEEEEEEEEE!" I hear a loud wail come from outside the door and in pops Babette, her eyes watery with tears just threatening to spill over her lightly mascara-d lashes.

"Babette!" I exclaimed as she threw herself onto me in a hug. "What are you doing? I thought you were sick!" But when she lifted away and looked at me with those big brown eyes, I knew immediately that she was nothing close to sick. But heartbroken.

"How could you do this?" Babette said, several tears swimming happily down her rosy cheeks and spilling down onto her pale green silk dress. "To me? I can't live like this and – and just watch you _starve_ and _kill_ and _die _and – and – oh!" She broke into another wave of crying and buried her face in her hands. I peeled her away and sat her on the gray cotton couch across from me. Looking around for a tissue, I found none, so I pried off her white yarn chubby and handed it to her to dry her tears with.

"Shhh… Babette…" I soothed and ran my hand down the length of her long blonde hair. "It's okay…"

She wrestled out of my grip. "No, it's not!" She cried. "I'll never survive if you die in there Tallie! Never! Ever!"

I took my finger and wiped away one of her tiny tears. "Well, even if I die, you'll get to see me whoop some non-Career butt." She managed a weak smile. "I need you to have faith in me, Bab, or I'll never come back."

Babette sniffled. "Yeah, I understand…" She looked back at me with saddened orbs and sighed. Bab then looked down at her arm, where a sterling silver charm bracelet, glittering with several charms of all shapes and sizes, sat happily wound her wrist. With trembling fingers, she slid it off her hand and handed it to me. "Keep it."

I held it up to the dim light radiating from the table lamp. "You're giving me your charm bracelet? Why, Babette? You love this thing with all your heart."

Babette sniffled again, took the bracelet, and slid it onto my wrist. "Not as much as I love having you as my friend. Take it as a reminder of me, okay?" I nodded solemnly and hugged her one last time.

"Okay Bab, I will." With that, she exited the room, leaving me alone once more. Fingering a charm shaped like the moon in my index finger and thumb, waiting for the moment where I could leave.

**And there you go. Special thanks to all my readers and submitters for sticking with me this far. You get virtual NON-OATMEAL RASIN cookies as well :O). As for my tributes so far, well, we'll see where my plot bunnies lead me.**

**If you are wondering why their escort's name is Myrkur, Myrkur is Icelandic for darkness. And no, I don't speak Icelandic. But Google Translate does.**

**Yes, thislittlemockingjay97, there were several aftershocks. But almost all of them were so small no one felt them. Except the one that woke me up at 3 in the morning today. It wasn't big, but it was enough to wake up a heavy sleeper like me. I slept through freaking hurricane Isabel, after all.**

**Sorry if this chappie was only of modest quality. I didn't sleep well last night. I didn't get to sleep until midnight, got woken up at 3 because of an aftershock, and then got woken up at seven because of a thunderstorm. Grrrr I hate natural phenomenon.**

**Enough of my rant, Read, Rate, Review, and keep on roasting.**

**~EnnixiaMaeLin**

**P.S. I just bought Alice: Madness returns. BEST. FREAKING. GAME. EVER. I suggest you all buy it if you're okay with severe violence and blood :) What? I can't help it if it's rated M. Smiley face.**


	4. District Four's Reaping

**Ya-haw! I be back! I apologize sooooooooo much for not updating so soon! I haven't had a lot of time to write over the past five or so days! Oh, and from this point on, I'm not going to be able to update so much. School started today! NOOOOOOOO! Anyway, thanks to thislittlemockingjay97 and FoofToldMe for submitting Lysedri and Hapsan. My wonderful readers agree as well. It means I can update :)**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Hunger Games. Frown-y face :(**

**HAPSAN BLAKE'S POV**

"Hapsan! Connor! Pace!" Stop your last minute training and eat your breakfast!"

"Coming," I wheezed and sat down on the bench of out backyard arena training area. Really, it's just a large shed and a fenced off corner of our yard. But I use it to train with my friend Connor Hues and younger brother (he's thirteen) Pace. Pace doesn't really come out to train though. He's like a practice dummy. Does he mind? No, or at least on the outside. He doesn't like to practice himself. I'd be a shame if he were reaped today. Pace'd be weighing the Careers down. I'm not mean towards him; he just isn't exactly "arena" material.

"What d'ya thinks gonna for be for breakfast?" Connor asked me. He came over early this morning to practice with Pace and me.

"Probably something disgusting," I answered as the three of us headed up to the house. It's not very good though, since District 4's biggest famous thing is the ocean, and the Justice Building conceals the whole thing. I mean, we don't live right behind it, we just see only bits and flecks from a distance away. Connor's got a better view from his house.

"Ah, here you are," My mom said and set three plates shaped like shells down at our dining room table. On each of them sat a flat, half-circle shaped yellow thing with bits of pink and brown in them, along with white too. "Eat up."

Connor eyed his suspiciously as I took a bite. It tasted good, despite its strange appearance and smell. "Uhm, Mrs. Blake? What is this?"

My mother rolled her brown eyes (the one thing we have in common) and answered, "It's a fish and ham omelet with flecks of scallop. I heard about it from your mother Connor." I nearly gagged on mine. Gross. But Pace and Connor didn't seem to mind. Either that, or they're just trying to be polite.

"Eww, I got the eye! Mom, aren't you suppost to use _just_ the fish _meat_?" Pace said, holding up his fork. Skewered to the end of his fork was a tiny little fish eye. Yuck.

"I'll use what I want," She said. "And the eyes are good for you. _Eat it_."

After choking down the rest of my omelet, I went upstairs to get changed out of my sweaty clothes and into my suit. It was the same one my father bought for me using the money from his latest fish shipment. Shark is always a favorite in the Capitol. I never really understood why, though. The silken suit was the color of midnight and buttoned only at the center. The cuff links were shaped like scallop shells and were made out of white ivory inlaid with a sterling silver HB. I wore a vibrant rich red dress shirt under it, black leather shoes, and a navy blue tie that matched my suit. I combed my messy brown hair out with one quick swipe and trumped down the stairs and out the front door, not even waiting for my family. They'd catch up.

Looking at the time on the town clock, I still had a good five minutes to kill before I should head to the Square. I decided to take a walk around town. It was nice out like it always is.

The first thing I passed was the Justice Building. Made out of cobblestone pebbles, bits of shells, some whole shells, and crystallized sand, all inlaid into solid concrete. The layer of beach material was so thick; you couldn't even see the cold grey concrete underneath. Several red-roped squares sat along the sandy pathway to the building. A somewhat small concrete fountain shaped like a conch shell sat in the middle of the circular pathway. Saltwater gurgled up in the shell and spewed into the air in a delicate arc. Two little kids were playing in the water, trying to catch it in their mouths, while being scolded by their laughing mother.

The next thing I passed was the Spokes. The Spokes is a small neighborhood made up of pale blue with white trimmed houses that sit along the shoreline. They have the most spectacular view of the sea. Connor lives up here. He says every morning he can wake up and smell the salt. Maybe that would solve Pace's lack in fighting skill? You never know. Coming out of one of the houses was Lysedri Sprintrose. I only knew Lysedri from school and the incident with the trackerjackers years ago. It's a very private matter and no one likes to talk about it. Not even Lysedri.

The last thing I passed was the ocean. The sun made flecks of light bounce around on the softly swaying cerulean surface. A couple of white-capped waves crashed onto the already wet sand, making it turn a more brownish goldenrod color instead of just plain gold. Several people were on the beach, doing something to take up the time before the reaping at nine. Luckily, not many of them were old enough to understand the physics of the event, let alone know what it is.

A loud crystal and platinum gong sounds out over the ocean, making several waves ripple up from nothing, signaling the start of the reaping. I make my way over, followed by a crowd of people from the Spokes, towards my spot in the seventeen-year-old square. As the last of the townsfolk file in, a man, no younger than fifty, took the stage. He looked almost normal, with salt and pepper hair, with very obvious grey hairs, pale skin, and violet-blue eyes. The only strange thing about him was the fact that his face was tattooed so that a million fat green snakes were slithering around his hairline, up his neck, and around the base of his chin. One serpent was even nipping at the base of his right eye.

"Welcome to the 101st Hunger Games," He said in a slightly cracking voice. "And may the odds be ever in your favor! My name is Havet, and I will be the escort for District 4 this year." He reached his hand into the boy's glass ball. "Shall I read this?" He earned several cheers from the crowd. This guy must have been an escort for a really long time; he's a good one with the crowd. "The boy, from District 4, this year, is – "

**LYSEDRI SPRINTROSE'S POV**

I love waking up in District 4. It's like being awoken by smelling salts that smell like the ocean, and then being lifted into the air by an invisible force and just left there. Floating in a sea of fragrance. Only us District 4 folk can have that feeling. Others smell smog or, coal or, manure. Blech, I could never live in any other place than here. Well, I could the Capitol, but I'd still miss the salty breeze that comes in through my cracked window. Not, like, broken cracked, but slightly _opened_ crack.

I slip out from my blue silk sheets and put on my fuzzy green slippers under my short nightgown. I make my way down the skinny staircase and into the kitchen, to find only my twin sister, Willabella, seated at our granite island.

"Where's everyone else Bella?" I asked her and sat down on another wooden stool next to her.

"Mom and dad left already for a meeting at the fishing harbor. Early morning skippers don't last long," Bella smiled. My stomach started to growl, and Bella noticed. "Here," She said, passing over a plate full of orange streusel muffins. "Eat up."

"Thank you sooooooooo much," I said, taking a large bite out of one of the warm fruity pastries. Yum, still warm… "What about Rowin, Zenith, and Moxie?" I asked and took another large bite, finishing off one. Rowin, Zenith, and Moxie were our little brothers and sister. Rowin was thirteen, Zenith was twelve, and little Moxie was three.

"They're still asleep," She answered and picked at a piece of bacon. "The reaping doesn't start for another hour. Give them some time to sleep. Its still Zenith's first reaping."

Right. _Another_ one of my siblings is risking their lives for the Games. Me, myself mind it? No. I think I'd fit well in the Games. Would I volunteer just 'cause I could? No. Only to save someone I love. If I get reaped, will I collapse on the floor in tears? No. I wouldn't say a word. If my sister or brother gets reaped, will I collapse on the floor in tears? Yes. But then I'd volunteer.

You get the point.

After breakfast, Willabella and me trekked upstairs to go get dressed. Today, I'm just going to go with a simple blue sundress and white sandals. I don't want to over-complicate myself for this occasion. If I get reaped, I want to be at my most dazzling in the Capitol. Not in my hometown. I then started to scavenge through my dresser drawers for my leather-backed hairbrush. Most hairbrushes here are made of plastic, but ones with leather are extremely durable and make combing out my mess of a hair-do much easier.

"Bella, do you know where my hairbrush is?" I call out to my sister, who's on the other side of the room. Everyone has to be grouped up in pairs 'cause there are only four bedrooms in our house. My parents, Willabella and me, Rowin and Zenith, and then Moxie gets her own.

"It should be in the bathroom where you left it last night," She answers back. I walk _all_ the way down the stairs to our only bathroom and find my brush right where I left it ad started to brush out my reddish-brown hair. It's quite beautiful actually. It falls down to the small of my back ant curls at the very end. Most other people have to dye their hair to get this color, but not me. It's naturally in my hair genes.

"Thank you!" I callback and unlock the front door, "Hey, I'm gonna go, remember to wake them up! Tell them I said good morning!"

"Bye Dri," She answered back and continued to look for her outfit. I exited and made a beeline for the tree line by the edge of the beach; where sand meets grass and wood and pavement. The tree line was made of pure sea oaks, with curly, twisting braches, just starting to bloom with fragrant pink flowers. I seat myself under one of the more larger ones and tuck my dress under me. Sigh, I love these trees. The one I'm under is just as old as me. It was just sprouting when I was born, my mother told me. Ever since then, I'd been calling the tree Dri, after my sister's nickname for me.

"Good morning Dri the Tree," I said and leaned against it's cool, smooth bark. "How are you today?" The tree's branches swayed in the breeze in response. "Yeah, I'm nervous too. I don't want Zenith to get reaped, or Rowin, and definitely not Bella. It just wouldn't do…" Oh, and in case I forgot to tell you, this is the tree that harbored the trackerjacker nest that changed my life.

When I was nine, my friends and me were playing in the tree line; I think it was tag, when Kosher Deen spotted something in the tree: a papery looking thing humming with wasps. A trackerjacker nest. My other friends started to throw stuff at it, like sticks and rocks and shells, but back then, we didn't know the severity of our actions. A few wasps, followed by a few dozen, started to swarm out. Everyone screamed and started to run away as they chased us. Being me, I've never been a fast runner. So when everyone was an excellent distance away, the wasps were slowly enveloping me. Of course, I got stung. My friends ran to go get help, and medics were rushing me to the hospital before I even knew it. Despite their desperate attempts, they could not get all of the venom out. So in the past seven years, every time I get really aggravated, the venom takes over, and I turn into a savage bloodthirsty beast that doesn't even know what she's doing. Oh, and by the way, those "friends" aren't really my friends anymore.

In the distance, I heard the gong sound out. Time to face my possible future.

I make my way into the sixteen-year-old square and find Willabella standing in the back. We stand next to each other and wave to our family in and outside the boxes. I don't even bother to notice the guy on the stage until he calls out the boy tributes name.

"Hapsan Blake," He says in an aged voice. A boy with brunette hair walks up to the stage, takes the slip, and walks away without a word. "Time for the girls now shall we?" Thousands of cheers erupted from the squares and crowd. The man takes a slip right off of the top of the girls bowl, opens it with trembling fingers, and loudly says,

"Willabella Sprintrose."

I couldn't believe what I'd heard, and neither could Bella. My sister was reaped.

"No!" I yell and cling to her and she tries to work her way through the crowded square. Before I know what I'm doing, I push myself ahead of her and shout, "I volunteer!" It's Willabella's turn to cling to me now. I knead her off me and make my way up to the stage. When I reach the man, he asks for my name. I proudly state, "Lysedri Sprintrose."

"That's a brave thing you're doing for your sister there Lysedri," He says in a whisper.

"I know," I say and take the slip before being ushered over into the gritty Justice Building.

**HAPSAN BLAKE'S POV**

Only four people came to visit me: Connor, Pace, mom, and dad. Connor just congratulated me and left. Pace came to say a brotherly goodbye. And my parents only came through as the harshest.

"Son," My father said in a voice as cold as stone. "You've been training for this your whole life."

"Yes…" I drawl on.

"We're expecting you to win," My mother said in a matching tone. "You have it in you."

"Yeah, but what if I don't?" I ask and cross my arms, curious to what point they were getting at.

"We know you will," My mother said, reassuring me by placing her hand on my shoulder. It didn't make me feel any less tense.

"Otherwise we put all that money and effort into you for nothing," My father completes my mom's sentence with some of the most cruel words ever.

"Gerald!" My mother snapped and glared at my father. "Sweetheart, he just wants you to come home, okay?"

I sighed. "Okay." My mother kissed me on the head and gave me something. It was a wristband made entirely out of metal with an inscription of a bloody axe – my best weapon. "What's this for?"

"It's your token," Mother said and clipped it to my right wrist.

"To remind you that you better do well if you want to ever earn our trust again." My father got another scolding from my mom before they stood up to leave. Right before they reached the door, I called out,

"You only want me to win for the money, don't you father?"

My mother just left the room before she could cry, and my father scowled at me. 'You're going to win, you're going to live the life of the victor, and you're going to love it. Even if it's the last thing you will ever do!" With that, he slammed the door shut.

**LYSEDRI SPRINTROSE'S POV**

Was this all a dream? Am I living a cruel, horrible nightmare right now? I tried pinching myself but I won't wake up. Do I now have to accept the fact that I'm possibly walking to my death right this very moment? I sighed and rested my head on my hands. My parents, Rowin and Zenith, and Moxie had already visited me. Suddenly Willabella burst into the room and launched herself into my arms.

"Augh!" I said as she crashed into me. "Bella! You're crushing me!"

She just hugged harder. "Dri, no! You can't go! What will I do without you!"

I patted her back. "It's okay… Bella…can you please get…off…me?" She bolted back and wiped some tears from her eyes. I could immediately tell she had been crying before she came in here by her puffy red eyes.

"No it's not!" She exclaimed. "I mean, I'm very grateful to you for saving my life, but I still would have rather gone in there than you! Please don't go sis!"

I blinked several times to keep tears from spilling over my lids. "yeah, but…but…I need you to look over the boys and Moxie for me until I get back. You got that?"

Willabella sniffed. "Okay. But you have to pinky swear you'll get back."

I sighed. "Alright." I stood up from my chair and shook pinkies with her. "I promise."

It was now Bella's time to roll her eyes. "No. A normal promise wont do. You have to pinkie _swear_."

I smiled. "I swear. You now, you're starting to be like your old self again." That sent Willabella into another fit of tears.

"Please come back!" She cried and strangled me back into a hug. I hugged her back and tried to pry her off me. When I got her off me _again_, she looked at me funny. "Do you want to take your fish pendant with you? Remind you of the ocean?" I gave a very quick, reluctant nod. "Yes." Bella dug around in her fish scale bag and pulled out a small wooden fish charm strung onto a piece of skinny, fraying rope. The fish still had a few flecks of falling-off green-ish brown paint. "Here. Use it as a District token." Bella gave me one last kiss on my forehead before exiting the room.

**Ta-doo! Here is the long awaited chappie. Thanks again to my wonderful readers who have supported me through out the length of this story so far. I love you all! Oh! I have two announcements!**

**One, we finally have our full tribute list! I filled in the last two spots with bloodbaths, so we have a full tribute list, along with 4-5 bloodbaths.**

**Oh! And my other announcement! I might be going to guest star on Kids React! I've only entered, but there's still a chance! Cross your fingers guys! DO IT!**

**Remember, read, rate, review, and keep on roasting.**

**~EnnixiaMaeLin**


	5. District Five's Reaping

**I APOLOGIZE FOR TAKING SO LONG! I FEEL SO BAD! Stupid algebra homework is clogging up all my afternoons! STUPID. ALGEBRA. HOMEWORK. *Slams head repeatedly into desk* Ngh. Anyway…Thanks to zoei11 (your tribute's day has come at last!) and orTherefore for submitting Desdemona and Adri. May a squadron of fluffy purple bumblebees make their way into your fridge by days end.**

**P.S. I apologize to WhatMusicIs for not being able to use your character! All my spots are filled! :(**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Hunger Games. Sad face :(**

**ADRI CEREN'S POV**

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. I see a clock. Mounted on my bathroom wall. Making harmonic sounds that sound like memorized garden gnomes. I love my life.

If you are guessing while I'm in the bathroom, I spilled one of my poisons last night, the one with the chartreuse flecks and ginger base, and was scrambling to clean it up before me or my pet snakes could breathe it in. Actually, make that just me. I don't mind if they die. I'll just catch some more in my basement cellar. Well, the _ruins_ of my basement cellar. It was destroyed some time ago from an experiment I made on Scabs. Scabs the corn snake should still be down there, well, his corpse at least. I don't clean that much.

Do I say "well" too much?

Ah, what am I kidding? I'm talking to myself in the tattered ruins of my old house, not knowing who will hear me. Possibly the ghosts of my family? My expression contorted. Eugh.

I lift myself up from the dirty white tiled floor and smooth down my long, unkempt onyx hair with my palm. I won't worry much about my appearance; I'm already fine as is. Or to myself at least. I will say nothing about the words and looks of other people. They make me feel self-conscious.

I squeeze out of the tiny bathroom, being careful not to rupture open any of my beloved deadly concoctions, and into my "bedroom". It's still a good square shape: ceiling, walls, some floor, etc.? I stride over to my dresser drawers, ignoring Melissa the rattlesnake's hisses, and wrangle out an all white tux. Lovely. It suits my wonderful personality best than any of the other things I have. Which are all either bleached, stained, ripped, torn, tattered, worn-out, dreary, or singed. Not to mention my old boxers, which are burned to a nasty crisp. Now that I actually think about it, I think my suit used to be blue, but it got bleached in the strawberry-pine poison a couple years back. Eh. Whatever.

After putting it on, I straighten my tie and slip out of my room and down the dull painted hallways towards the kitchen. I open the cabinet, having only the door fall off its rusty hinges, and pull myself out a breakfast bar. I gnaw on it and brush a thin layer of dust off my cracked kitchen counter. Of course, it get's all over my nice, clean finger. But I promptly wiped it back on the counter. Not gonna get my suit dirty no siree!

Soon I'm finished my breakfast, so I head out the half-gone-half-broken door and start down the pathway. Back in the days, it was clean cut out of black flagstone and quartz. Now, it's broken, shattered, and dotted with weeds, dandelions, and many types of dried grass. Not to mention various pieces of rubble and wood. Plus screws and nails.

Instead of continuing down the walkway, I turn to my right and stride down a winding path made of dirt and open the doors to the cellar. Well, it's not really a door. Just a large slab of wood and several roof shingles and chair legs. Once it's cleared, I jump down into the dim hole of black. My feet hit the concrete floor with a thud, which echoes off the walls, as if they were communicating to each other through some foreign language. Bouncing words and phrases back through one another. I reach my hand around above me for the chain that turns the lights on. Once my fingers slide around the base, I grasp it and give it a yank. The room illuminates with light immediately. Or, at least, more than it used to. The electricity in my house is very scarce.

I walk across the room until I come to a crumbling, eroding pile of concrete blocks and wine colored bricks. My hands start to scavenge around in the rubble when I hear a hiss. To my left, shimmering in the dull light, is Gertrude the cobra.

"Gertrude!" I say. "Don't you hiss at your master!" I lifted one of the bricks off the pile and dropped it about halfway down her long, skinny back. She fell to the ground in defeat, sputtering out a noise that sounded like a hiss, screech, and some guy choking on a date nut. I pat her head and she flicks out her ruby tongue in response before I turn back to the pile of ruin. I let myself investigate the pile some more before my fingertips brush a surface that feels like a cornhusk that's been roasting in the sun for years.

"Scabs!" I lift up a crispy, mangled figure from the pile. "I knew I'd find you!" I give his head a kiss and shove him in my pants pocket. Why? The world may never know.

I pull the light cord, turning the room black again, and clear away a large clump of brass roof shingles and emerge back into the crisp cold air of fall. My eyes hurting from the bright sunshine, I stumble to my feet and down my dead yard to the cracked sidewalk. I manage to gain back my seeing soon enough to proudly walk down the street.

About halfway down the needing-to-be-repaired street, I see a duo of girls. Both around my age, tall, and with pale skin and curly hair. One auburn, one blonde. I give them a little nod, but they exchange glances and hurry away in a quick, rushed fashion. I roll my eyes.

Stupid girls. They don't know what they're missing.

**DESDEMONA ALETHEA'S POV**

I wake up to the normal, gray, senseless house that is my home. No vibrant colors. No comfy Sherpa blankets. No cheerful laughter. No hot meals awaiting my fork. Just…gray. And wood. And silence. And the smell of dust and dirt. Do I even dare myself to get out of bed? Face another lifeless day being watched by the hollowed, sunken in eyes of my fellow District folks. It's unbearable. Especially for a freak like me.

I let out what was supposed to be a sigh, but only came out as a warm gust of hot air. My limbs slip out from under the thin, white linen sheets, one by one, toe by toe, finger by finger. And then my face. As pale and unnatural as it's always been. I lift myself up slowly, being careful not to trigger a migraine from my lack of vitamin C, and place my feet on the rough, unfinished wood of my bedroom. Lucky I go to sleep wearing socks, or I'd be stuck with a nasty splinter. Just another problem to add to my growing list. And better enough? Today's reaping day. The one we all dread year round. Especially for low lives like my family and me.

_Just two more years Desdemona, just two more years… _I repeat to myself as I throw on my mother's old robe over my underclothes and exit the room. Just this year and next, until I'm free. Free from this unending pain and misery and suffering. _Sigh._

When I enter the kitchen, I see only my mother there, waiting with a plastic bowl of some sort of liquid. My father was nowhere to be seen.

"Hi mom," I say and rub my eyes before taking a seat at the small dining table. "What's for breakfast? And where's dad?"

"Your father had to leave for his early morning shift. We're not going to see him until after the reaping." _If I see after the reaping_. "And breakfast this morning is oatmeal. Eat up."

I look down at the bowl she pushed gently towards me with a china spoon. The spoon was a gift from her friend in the Capitol. Made from only the finest porcelain and painted with tiny roses and tulip flowers. It's too pretty for a place like this. I draw my attention away from the utensil and into my bowl, which was swimming with grayish water and clumps of grainy-oat material. Knowing my mother, we probably don't have enough dough to afford _real quality_ oatmeal. So it's probably just tap water mixed with oats and grain from our tesserae. I dip my spoon in it and lift up a glob. I suddenly lost my appetite.

My mom could see the contorted expression on my face, so she dug around under the sink for something. "Here," She said and held up a slice of Swiss cheese. "I was going to save these for tonight so that I could melt them on slices of toasted bread over the fireplace, but you look like you need a pick-me-up right now. Plus, I don't know if I'll even be able to do that. I used the last of our tesserae for the oatmeal and I don't think I'll have anytime today to go out and buy a loaf. So eat."

I smile a meek grin. "Thanks." She smiles a similar smile back, but it's still filled with sorrow and guilt. After all, she was one of the unwitting factors that aided in corrupting my life. I nibble on the piece of cheese as I get changed into my reaping clothes. Slowly, being careful not to waste anytime that I have left in my home. Just in case I get reaped. Which I'm most certain I will. Once I'm fully clothed, I look at myself in my mirror.

My mother had chosen to give me a black, knee-length dress with no sleeves and no frill. It's loose fitting from the waist down and shimmers navy in the sunlight that creeps through my blinds. The dress makes me look like a goddess of the dead, not to mention the fact of how it emphasizes my face. My horribly altered face.

My long, silky silver-white hair draped down my shoulders and tickles the base of my chest. It nearly blends in with my pale skin, making me look like somewhat of a ghost. But the good thing is it really brings out my icy blue eyes. Even the black spots in them look good for once. Plus the fact that my pale pink-blue lips are proudly shown off. For once, I'm actually liking the way I look.

You must have so many questions right now. Why I look so weird, why I'm not trying to kill my freak self, and why my mother always looks so guilty? Well, it all happened seventeen years ago.

My mother was a poor young woman who needed money. When she saw the ad for test subjects at the laboratory, she didn't second-guess it one bit. They always get paid for that. And when you're on the brink of starvation, you change. Little did she know that she was pregnant with her first daughter: me. Nine months later I was born, with my white hair and black-spotted eyes. Pale skin and the black birthmark on my left bicep that's shaped like a songbird. She tells me that she's okay, but on the inside she's never forgiving herself for what she did. I don't really care, since mutation is a common thing in District Five, but I still have never liked it very much.

I exit my house, seeing that my mother had already left – she must have gone while I was in the bathroom – and walk down the crooked pathway to the street. Luckily, my house is just around the corner from The Square. With out large black quartz Justice Building. Where the two glass balls cradling children's fates sit happily. I swiftly take my spot in the seventeen-year-old section and wait for the reapings to begin. Inching her way forward was a young girl, no older than 21, with wavy sunshine-y blonde hair and silvery gray eyes. She grasped the microphone with her French manicured fingers and spoke with the mesh top near her lips. I could tell the town officials were afraid she would get her rose-y lipstick on the mic.

"Hello District five," She murmured into the mic. Luckily the sound was on full blast so we could hear her. "My name is Liddonn, and I'm the District five escort for this year. Um…yay." Her speech so far was awarded with a couple meek cheers and some applause. She scooted over towards the boy's orb. "The boy tribute…" She dug around, mixing it up as if it was a salad. "For this year…is…" She lifted a tiny slip up to her face. "Is Borg Hendriscopy."

A big, bulky eighteen-year-old stomped up to the stage. I couldn't tell if he was angry or just weighed a lot from all that muscle. Before Liddonn gave him the slip, she asked more loudly into the mic, "Any volunteers?"

"I volunteer!" A voice exclaimed from the back of the sections. Emerging from the thirteen-year-old section was a lanky boy with pale skin and oily black hair. He strode up to the stage proudly and spoke his name into the microphone before Liddonn could even ask his name. "Adri Ceren!"

"Well Adri thank you for volunteering," She said and handed him the slip. While he walked into the Justice Building, she dug around in the girl's ball. "And the girl tribute for this year will be Desdemona Alethea!"

My blood went cold in my veins. My pupils reduced to tiny little spheres. My face turned to stone. I had been reaped.

**ADRI CEREN'S POV**

The seconds tick by one bye one. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. But there is no clock in sight. Just white. I blend in like a baby seal on a snow dune. I like baby seals. They're _soft_. Like this couch.

So fuzzy.

No one's come to visit me yet. I could have sworn I saw two girls, the ones on the street, wander past the door. Are they here to see me? No, Desdemona's friends probably. What about poor Adri? Maybe he has feelings too.

**DESDEMONA ALETHEA'S POV**

The room was a lot colder than it should have been. The dark, looming exterior of the Justice building was hiding away this clean, porcelain white jail cell. The fluffy polar bear fur – or I think it's polar bear fur – couches didn't make up for it. Chill after chill navigated down my spine. Is this cruel torture? Have I finally reached the brink of insanity? The walls feel like they're closing in on me. My claustrophobia's growing larger and larger. I crumble to the floor and pound my fist on the crisp eggshell floors. "WHY!" I shout. I was about to keep screaming, but three figures burst in through the doors before I could.

Chemistra Katarinash. Motora Katarinash. Charphrin Jermaine. My three bestest friends in the whole wide world.

Chem and Motora are twins, both my age, with fair skin, brown eyes, and curly hair. Only Chemistra's is auburn, while Motora's is golden blonde. Chem is the more sweet and charming of the two, while Motora is more fierce and sarcastic, with her several piercings: two in her left lobe, three in her right lobe. Don't think she's a Goth freak, 'cause she's not. Motora's just very expressive and vibrant. Plus, she almost never wears any earrings. She pretty much only wears a small glass sphere in her third piercing. Charphrin is the shy genius in our posse. He doesn't say much behind his small rectangular glasses.

"Hey Chem, Motora, Charph," I say, my eyes half-shut, as they lift me back up onto the couch. "Why are you here?"

"To visit you of course," Chemistra says and seats herself next to me.

"Why wouldn't we? Girl, you need to connect to your senses!" Motora says and seats herself to my right. Charphrin squats on the floor.

"Motor's right," Charph muses. "Us not coming is nonsense."

"Right…" I drawl. "So, what are you going to say? I can already see it in _your_ eyes Chem that you're really sorry and want to cry right now because you're so upset. I can see in _you're_ eyes Motora that you wish that you could take my spot so I won't die and that you really want some white corn soup right now like you always do. And Charph, I can always tell that you're thinking of clever schemes to show those Career people who's boss. Am I right?"

I could immediately tell I was spot on. Chemistra threw herself into my arms, bawling, Motora patted my shoulder reassuringly, and Charphrin just pursed his lips. Only a couple people filtered in after I bid my farewells to the trio. A couple people from school I've only even briefly known came and apologized, followed by my mother and father.

My father only gave me the longest hug in human history, while my mom fingered around in her purse for something. When she clasped her fingers around it, she quickly strung it around my neck. It was a silver necklace that reached halfway between my dress's neckline and my throat. The necklace was made out of tiny silver pearls, each only about a half a centimeter long, strung onto a tightly woven brass cord. Probably another gift from mom's Capitol friend. She tells me to take it with me to the Capitol, take a piece of her with me. I smile and thank her.

As other random strangers filter in, I just blur out their words. Strange murmurs to me now. I just let my fingers trace circles around my birthmark. My beautiful, lovely, unique, birthmark.

Circle after circle, circle after circle.

**And there you have it. District Five. My weeks waited chapter! I HOPE I PLEASED YOUR GUIDELINES! Meh. I wrote this all in one day. My hands cramping like it's having a heart attack or stroke or something. It hurts. Anyway, please tell me if I did something wrong with your character, I'm open to criticism! CONSTRUSTIVE CRITICISM! Don't sugar-coat it too much though. Then you sound as if **_**you're **_**have a heart attack or stroke or something. But anyway, this will probably be the time period between chappies, and I'm also not going to POV bloodbaths. I run out of ideas quickly. I don't know how people with 48 tributes do it.**

**R&R&R!**

**Keep on roasting little weenies!**

**~EnnixiaMaeLin**


	6. IMPORTANT NOTICE

**Aloha my fellow readers! I apologize for being gone from Fanfiction for so long, but I have been busy with lots of other things, such as vacations, drawing, and my own social life. If any of you have stories that I read, trust me, I've read them al but have not had a chance to review.**

**As for the fate of my story, I have been having some trouble receiving a few of my chapters from my friend's computer, and as soon as we get that worked out I'll upload the rest of the chapters and start writing some new ones. I also am almost finished with our cover image for our story! I drew all 21 of the tributes that will survive the bloodbath in their reaping clothes on a piece of paper and outlined them with Sharpie. I'm either going to scan it onto my computer (with no color) or take a picture of it, convert it to paint, and do some digital work on it on my iPad (with color), which will take a bit longer. But either way I will have it ready in at least a week.**

**As for other things in my life I **_**really**_** need to put the most of my writing energy into my other story, which hasn't been updated since **_**December**_**. Yikes. And not to mention that school is just around the corner, so I will become busier and busier as time goes on.**

**So, in conclusion, I'm trying hard to get the rest of my chapters uploaded and the cover image done, but remember that I am very busy right now and don't have a lot of free time for other things.**

**I love you all,**

**~EnnixiaMaeLin**

**Now it's time for some story so that the moderators don't attack me again.**

The young Avox girl placed the dismembered training dummy in her lap and opened up her sewing bag. As a 15 year old from district 8, the Capitol sought her out for training room clean up. Her job, along with two other Avoxes whose names and history were unknown to her, was to fix, clean, and disinfect all of the equipment so that it was ready for the next day.

She flipped her long, blonde ponytail over her small, frail shoulder and took out a single needle and a spool of tan thread. Today, she thinks that she will start with the arms. After readying her needle, she plunges in with a quick – but neat – zigzag stitch. The arms, legs, and head needed to be securely sewn onto the torso to avoid falling off so easily, and to simulate a real, stiff human body. After she finished sewing the right arm onto the body, she took out a canister of water from the bag and unscrewed the lid. Using her finger, she wet the tip of it and spread the water out onto the stitch, repeating several times. As she worked, the thread began to melt – or fuse – onto the fabric of the training dummy. After only a few minutes the repair stitching was completely gone and the arm was tightly attached. She repeated that process for the other arm, the legs, and the head before moving onto the slashes and cuts in various places.

As she began to sew up the first gash in the dummy's chest, she changed her sewing technique. Instead of using the zigzag stitch, she just used a simple, quick, straight stitch. After all, sunset had arrived, and all Avoxes are required to be in their chambers by nightfall. The girl still had two more dummies to do, and she was running out of time. After quickly sewing up the tears and wetting them with the tap water, she packed up the small bag stood up and moved onto the next one.

By the time she had made the dummies look like new again, the sun had disappeared and so it was time to pack up and leave. The other Avoxes had finished about a half hour ago, so she was all alone in the big, cold, dark, empty room. The 15-year-old slung the bag over her shoulder and started towards the exit. When she reached it, she turned around and surveyed the work she and her workmates had done to the room with her tired, blue eyes.

The wooden targets had all been repaired and repainted, the swords and axes and spears all perfectly in align against the wall, the colorful paints scrubbed clean off the blue mat, the knots gone from the slivers of golden rope she had helped to weave when she first arrived here two years ago, and her three training dummies standing tall in the middle of the room.

She them smiled, yawned, turned out the lights, and left.


End file.
